


Stolen Art, Stolen Heart

by Toodentz



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Loss of Virginity, Mostly Smut, brief mentions of satanism, kind of fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 05:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toodentz/pseuds/Toodentz
Summary: Usually he received an invitation to come inside, share a cup of tea, maybe a bottle of whiskey. A nightcap, if you will. But not tonight. He lay awake, tossing and turning and thinking about your one little word that led to nothing, absolute nothing. You had a great time, didn’t you? He laid on all his usual charm, didn’t he?Then why had you turned him down?





	Stolen Art, Stolen Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This took me the longest to write because writer's block hit me HARD. Hope you guys enjoy it! Original post can be found at gorillaztrashimagines.tumblr.com

“Goodnight.” 

It was innocent enough, no temptation, no invitation, no hazy look in your eyes. And before he knew it, you had kissed his cheek and closed the door. 

Goodnight.

Was it? He wasn’t used to this. Usually he received an invitation to come inside, share a cup of tea, maybe a bottle of whiskey. A nightcap, if you will. But not tonight. He lay awake, tossing and turning and thinking about your one little word that led to nothing, absolute nothing. You had a great time, didn’t you? He laid on all his usual charm, didn’t he?

Then why had you turned him down? 

This was your second date. Usually he’d be tempting you with the attraction of his demure bedroom by now, but he decided to take it slow, drop hints and aim for the second date instead. That was slow for Murdoc. But he’d spent the whole night whispering in your ears, placing tender kisses on your hands and cheeks and lips, and nothing. Were you playing him? No, playing him usually involved sleeping with him to brag about it to your friends the next day. He was fine with that. This was something different, he was sure of it. You seemed to enjoy his advances, craning your neck to allow him easier access, giggling at his dumb jokes. He swears he remembers your hand brush across his leg, surely he didn’t imagine it. Then why weren’t you in his bed? 

He made it his mission to find out. The next day, he called you. Murdoc shocked himself, laying awake all night thinking about some person he hadn’t even slept with yet. Frankly, it was embarrassing. Then, to make things worse, he called you. He wasn’t desperate, he hadn’t been having any dry spells that’s for sure. But he called you. He had to know what on earth was tempting you away from him. No one could resist him, so why were you?

“Hey, love, fancy being my date tonight?” He’s careful to sound slightly uninterested, he doesn’t want you to think you’re his only option just in case you are playing some kind of game with him. 

“To what, exactly?” You hum over the receiver. “I’m not going to some weird thing without knowing what it is I’m signing up for.”

“Weird thing? Who said it would be weird?” He smiles at the sound of your voice. 

“Well, Muds, it is you we’re talking about.” He can tell you’re smiling. His stomach fills with butterflies. What the hell, he thinks to himself, are you some kind of bloody teenage girl? Keep it together. 

“It’s an art show, ya’ dunce, nothing weird. I wouldn’t do that to you on a third date.” You laugh flirtatiously. His voice is raspy and calming, it makes you feel like floating. 

“Well in that case, yes, I’d love to.” 

He hums with satisfaction. “Great. I’ll pick you up around eight love, wear something pretty for me.” He hangs up before you respond. Any longer and he’d feel desperate, something he doesn’t like to feel.

…..

You spend the evening roaming the gallery, making comments about paintings and drinking the free champagne. Murdoc made a game of taking turns grabbing champagne chutes so the waiters don’t notice how many you take. You both work up a decent buzz as your artistic comments slowly turn from sophistication to… something else.

“I wonder if painters get hard looking at the women they’re painting,” Murdoc wondered, tipping his glass to his lips and resting his hand on his chin inquisitively. 

“Well, they’re professionals so probably not.” You attempt to sound more elite than you are but the bubbly champagne is ticking more than your throat. 

“Maybe I should get into painting if it means being surrounded by naked women all the time,” he smirked, taking another sip. “Sounds like a great day job if you ask me.”

“You can’t paint worth a damn, Murdoc, and you know it.” You giggle at him as he makes fake camera gestures, framing the photo on display with his fingers. 

“Maybe not but I can respect it,” he smiles. “I respect it enough to enjoy these types of things as long as they offer booze. And anyways, I’m starting my own collection of art. Maybe I’ll have a museum someday.”

“Cut-outs of Playboy don’t count as art.”

He reeled, clutching his chest in a mocking manner, “How dare you?” He laughs, “With all the work those women have done they might as well be artwork. Never thought of that did ya’? And I’m serious, I even have a few paintings at home in my bedroom.”

You eye him carefully. He takes another sip before placing his glass on a nearby waiter’s empty tray. “I don’t believe you,” you test. 

“Well I’ll just have to show you, then.” He takes your hand, kissing it before taking the glass from your other hand and ridding it, dragging you out the door before you can protest. 

He drives recklessly, often glancing away from the road to look at and talk to you. Your nerves start to get to you as you think more about where you’re going, what he’s thinking. You hope everything stays on topic, but you have an aching suspicion that it’s going to go somewhere else very quickly. 

His eyes continue to wander from the road to you as you realize just how easily distracted he could get. You weren’t even trying to flirt with him and he couldn’t resist you. What happened? Your first date he was so uninterested, so underwhelmed. It was a ruse, of course, you knew he just didn’t want to show his real feelings, but now something was very different. But what? When you arrive at the house, he gets out to open your door, taking your hand before kissing it again and draping his arm around your shoulder to lead you inside. 

The house itself was sort of menacing, you couldn’t decide if it was your nerves or just the way it looked. It was something out of a horror film on the outside, wood cracked and peeling, windows broken. If you hadn’t known better, you’d think it was abandoned. As you entered the house you realize a significant amount of work had been done to clean the place, only to have it immediately trashed again by the band. Pizza boxes littered the floors with empty beer cans and cigarette butts beside them. Murdoc notices your hesitation and takes his chance. 

“This way, love, don’t want to loiter out here. My bedroom is nicer.” His smile is comforting but vaguely smug. You follow him to a dark room, dimly lit by computer monitors and the eerie moonlight creeping in from the window. At first glance you think it’s a perfect room for a rock star, complete with leopard print decor and leather chairs. At second glance, however, you think the same thing but worse. You begin to notice the weird little collectibles scattering the floor, some weird music box and an old bonnet-looking thing in a frame that you weren’t going to ask about. You were pretty sure there were sex toys scattered around the room, you’d never used them before so you couldn’t be sure but you knew a blow up doll when you saw one. And was that a thong on the floor? Your heart raced, you could feel it beat against your chest. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea… 

“Right here, told you. It’s a good one too, I’ve always been a fan.” He looked at you eagerly waiting for your response, leaning the rather large painting against the wall and stepping back next to you to admire it. 

“Is that… is that Rembrandt?” Your mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Tell me this isn’t real. Murdoc, are you serious?” He smiles wide, satisfied. 

“‘The Storm on the Sea of Galilee’, specifically. It’s a good one, yeah? One of my favorites.” His grin grew wider the longer you stared. 

“Why are you so interested in this?” Your curiosity pokes at you, “aren’t you a Satanist? Why do you care about a depiction of a miracle from Jesus?” His face grew solemn and thoughtful, continuing his visage of aristocracy. 

“Well, to believe in one you have to believe in the other. They go hand in hand. I can’t admit God isn’t real if I believe Satan is, just like a good Christian couldn’t deny his existence. To have one is to have the other.” You remain silent in contemplation as he continues. 

“I suppose in a way it confirms my beliefs. If this guy can calm a storm like that and he considers Satan an adversary, what does that say about Satan?” He looks at the painting again, letting out a small content sigh. 

“Beautiful, innit?” You nod, gazing at it with more intent now seeing the meaning to this man who may or may not have stolen it. You decide not to pry. Your nerves get the better of you, though, realizing he was opening up to you. Was this the real him? Your face feels hot and you can feel the pin pricks of blood rushing to your face as you blush, realizing maybe conversational intimacy might be a slippery slope to the real thing. But how could you pass up such a good moment? He was being so real with you, so honest. 

“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” you say quietly, “I didn’t think you actually had anything to show me.” He raised an eyebrow at you, wondering what you meant. “It’s just… I only thought you wanted me to come here so you could have me alone. I didn’t think you were telling the truth about the paintings.” He smiled softly, chuckling to himself. 

“Well, frankly I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t included in the plan.” He moved his eyes from the painting to you, noticing your blushing cheeks. You must have looked like a nervous wreck, you think. How could he not notice? 

“I’m not here to pressure you, love, I’m not the kind,” he slowly walked over to you, taking one of your hands between both of his and looking into your eyes, so deep you could swear he saw right through you. “I’m just trying to show you that I know beauty when I see it…” his voice trails off as he leaned in, whispering in your ear with that rough but somehow still silky voice of his. 

“…and love, you’re it.” 

He traces an index finger along your jawline, gently pulling your face forward to meet him as you look up. His smile isn’t smug as usual but instead warm and pleasant. Your eyes meet and you realize that maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you- 

“Are you gonna kiss me or am I gonna have to do all the work here?” 

He grins at you, holding you close. You smile wide and let your hand rest on the back of his neck before pulling him in, your lips meeting for a passionate kiss. He falls away from you for a moment to catch a breath and kisses you again, draping his hands around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You’re right against him, you can feel every curve of his body pressed against you and yet you still want to be closer. His forehead presses against yours as you draw back for another breath, you can feel your heart beating fast against your chest. 

His eyes are closed, focusing on your body as he moves his hands from your hips to beneath the hem of your shirt and slowly upwards, letting his fingers trace your outlines. You’re completely enthralled in the moment, you want nothing more than to keep getting closer to him, more intimate with him. You fail to realize where that’s going to take you. He pulls your shirt over your head and in the moment you do the same for him, letting your hands come to rest at his chest. He leads you backwards, holding you gently as you fall onto the bed. He arches over you, still half-standing between your legs as he kisses you deeper, carrying his weight in his arms. He moves to place kisses on your jaw, slowly moving down to your chin, then moving down your neck. You feel a wave of excitement fly through you when you feel something hard brush against your thigh, but the excitement is replaced with fear when his fingers loop the waistband of your pants. 

“M..Murdoc…” you stutter, realizing that you might upset him with the news you were about to deliver. 

“Mmmm…yeah love, that’s it,” he hums at the sound of his own name not realizing you were trying to say something. 

“No, Murdoc, seriously…” you sit up to stop him, taking his hands at your waist. You decide to go the no-nonsense route and spit it out, the thought of having to explain anything making you nervous. 

“I’m.. I’ve never had sex before.” You admit bluntly, the word ‘virgin’ making you feel adolescent. He stands up straight in front of you, his face almost unreadable if not for his unmistakably smug smile. 

He finally realized why you had avoided him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him, it was that you didn’t know how to want him the way he wanted you. It all made sense. This wouldn’t deter him, of course. Now he was presented with a special opportunity. 

“Do you want to?” He asks after what felt like hours of silence. Now it was your turn to be confused. 

“You’re not upset?” 

He chuckled. “Why would that upset me?” 

“It’s just that you’re so experienced and I don’t know much, I’m not even sure what to do really I mean I know how to have sex but the other stuff I don’t know what to do and I don’t want to disappoint you since you could have so many others and-” 

He cuts your nervous stuttering off with a quick kiss, brushing a thumb against your cheek as he pulled away. 

“I don’t like people for their experience, I like people for who they are. People are so bloody awful nowadays, I should know-,” he winked,“-so I pride myself on having exceptional company.” He leaned over you again, easing you back with a deep kiss. “I don’t care that you’re a virgin, so long as you don’t care that I’m not.” He smiled warmly again, something rare and comforting.

“So what do you say?” 

He hovers over you, one hand framing your face and the other holding his weight above you. His eyes are longing and bright. 

“I want to… but to be honest I’m kind of nervous about your reputation.” 

He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ears and looks at you, studying your face. “Here’s what we’ll do,” his voice lowers just above a whisper as he places a kiss on your lips. 

“People come to me expecting a good time, something wild and exciting, as I’m sure you know.” He kisses the corner of your mouth and keeps going. “But who says I can’t romance you just as well as I could blow your mind?” He’s getting cocky but you kind of love it, as he keeps kissing down your jawline. “So how about you let me show you just what real romancing is like? I promise I’ll go easy on you, and you can tell me to stop if you need me to do something else. I won’t be mad. I want to make you happy, love. How does that sound?” 

You’re already enticed by his offer and you feel your nerves simmer down, curious to see what he can do. After a final thought, you nod your head. “I really want to do this with you,” you whisper. 

“So do I, love. I promise it’ll be the best you’ll ever have. And when I make that promise I tend to come through.” He smiled before moving up over you and kissing your forehead, pressing his against yours as your eyes meet. “Just talk to me, alright? Remember to speak up if you don’t like it.” You nod again, this time arching your neck to kiss him. 

“Enough talking,” you charge, “Remind me why I’m doing this before I change my mind.” 

He didn’t need another word of encouragement. He slipped off his pants, exposing himself to you before slowly taking off your undergarments as well. He stayed standing, leaning over you as he kissed you so deeply you felt as if you would sink right through the mattress. Your hands steadied him, one at the base of his neck and the other at his waist. You traced your hands against his skin and played with the nape of his hairline as he kissed you, and you feel his tongue trace your bottom lip as he sucks it between his own. His hands wander your body before settling at your hips, and you feel him hard against your leg. He takes a second to roll on a condom, making sure you still felt at ease as he notices your face flush. 

“You still okay?” 

“Yes,” you nod again, your heart racing. 

He pulls you to the edge of the bed by the backs of your thighs, your legs dangling down off the sides. You can feel a rush of excitement and enjoy the new strange sensation between your legs as he moves closer to you. He leans over you again, bracing himself on his elbow and using his other free hand to steady himself. You feel him enter you, but just barely as he rubs his tip against your sensitive spot. You clutch the sheets below you as waves of feeling hit you with each move he makes, the tingling feeling going from just your lower half to your entire body. You felt as if an earthquake of excitement was running tremors through your very bones as he moved back and forth against you, making your breath hitch and your heart pound. He shifts downward and you feel him slowly enter you, your muscles contracting and weakening as your body forms around him. He’s careful but in total control, slowly easing in and out of you as you begin to give in to the feeling. 

Your breath hitches in a moan and you shut your eyes tight, gripping his waist as he moves deeper into you with each stroke. He places kisses along your neck as one of his hands moves downward to you, pressing against your clit as he continues his cautious movements. You had always heard the first time was supposed to hurt, but you felt incredible. He knew exactly what he was doing and you were putty in his hands. He was so careful but at the same time his movements overwhelmed your senses, leaving you quite literally breathless. 

You gasp as he suddenly bites between your neck and shoulder, sending even more shock waves of pleasure through your body. He begins to move faster, feeling the wetness between your legs as a sign that you can take more. His pace was steady as he moved faster in and out of you. You move your hands back down to he sheets, feeling too weak to hold them up any longer. The hand circling your sensitivity stops in fear of pushing you too far and moves against your hip, he holds you tightly to steady himself better as he thrusts into you with need. 

He presses his lips to your forehead and you feel a strange new sensation building up in you. Your muscles tighten. He notices your body clench in anticipation and smirks, knowing what you’re about to experience is all his doing. He slows his pace again, this time thrusting into you quickly but pulling out slow. This takes you over the edge, your muscles pulse and your fists grip the sheets tightly as you breathe obscenities into his ear. Hearing this took him, too, as he released himself with a few final and decisive thrusts, coming to rest as your body still rippled with satisfaction. He pulled himself up and slowly pulled out of you, the feeling still sending you flying as his length left a new empty feeling between your legs. 

He quickly took a cigarette out of the pants laying on the ground below you before collapsing next to you on the bed and taking a drag. Your chest heaved, eyes still shut tight before finally rolling over to look at him. You place a delicate kiss on his nose. 

“How was that?” You sigh heavily, taking note of the soreness you now felt in your legs and torso, hoping you’d feel it the next day to remember just how you got that way. 

“Best I’ve ever had.”


End file.
